Hit 'em High & Hit 'em Low

My rhymes are Feng shui Nines are gun play I been praying for war all week and twice on Sunday I got plenty of ammunition and lines to run game Gamble lovin' the bitches And bitches they love J She was hot as a barbecue Hop in the car with Hugh I'll take you to 42nd street But we ain't stopping at Target, boo Rapping aint hard to do I'm going hard on every mother fucking track That I'm tapping my heart into Yo, what up? Puffing herb That's word to the fucking bird Birds fucking and bees humping That's what we learned Bite my rhymes You'll bite the fucking curb Like it's nothing, sir I'm judging your ass like justice served We hit 'em high Ain't no mountain high enough Yo, we hit 'em low I'm hearing that it's drying up Is a couple pies enough? Nah, we need a hundred pies a month, so We hit 'em high and hit' em low You don't wanna fuckin' brag Bitches like you come and go Why they call you money bags? You don't got that kind of doe You thinkin' that you fuckin' bad It's time for the fuckin' show Dump another fuckin' mag We hit 'em high and hit 'em low Yo, I'm pretty fly for a white guy I'm talking Sci-Fi nerd in a tie-dye shirt Smoking weed when I drive by You know this beat is pretty tight, Guy I'm cooking up pad Thai on the Akai Like I'm Iron Chef Sakai Bye bye, birdie I'm sending pies down south Don't be thinking that my guys dirty I move 'em quicker than liquid at high tide Here's a high five, we didn't die by 30 Nobody's perfect Don't criticize The flu gets her in the mood The dope gets her by I can be in two places at the same time You should've seen her face when she changed minds I'm hitting the gas Giving her Nicholas Cage vibes Riches were made Stickin' my dick in the grave vibes Bitches were paid Fucking two chicks at the same time Bangin' this shit Throwing' up gang signs We hit 'em high and hit' em low You don't wanna fuckin' brag Bitches like you come and go Why they call you money bags? You don't got that kind of doe You thinkin' that you fuckin' bad It's time for the fuckin' show Dump another fuckin' mag We hit 'em high and hit 'em low We hit 'em high and hit' em low You don't wanna fuckin' brag Bitches like you come and go Why they call you money bags? You don't got that kind of doe You thinkin' that you fuckin' bad It's time for the fuckin' show Dump another fuckin' mag We hit 'em high and hit 'em low